Monday, December 14, 2009

I overheard this quiet conversation coming from Bob’s room at bedtime as his father was tucking him in.

“Daddy, I love your ring.”

“I love it too, because it means that I’m married to mama.”

“I have a ring.”

“You do?”

“Yes. It means that I am married to you, Daddy, because we are friends.”

“That’s sweet, Buddy.”

There was silence for a few moments and then the yelling began.

“Hey Mama! Can you get my ring out of my dress up bag? It's in my closet! The one I got at Annie’s tea party? I need it for being married to Daddy! Mama! Hurry! I am married now! Come on! I need my ring! You have to find it now! Now! I love it! It's by my hats! Mama?! I need it! The green one! I am married! I can't do sleeping without my married ring! Hurry Mama! Mama! I am putting bedtime on the pause button until the ring gets here! You can do it Mama! Mama!”

9 comments:

Setting is everything. A conversation like that is sweet and charming when it takes place in a california bungalow. As soon as you move it to a trailer in the ozarks, it becomes a whole different thing.